


We Were Worthy

by karuvapatta



Series: Loki Really Wants To Bang His Brother AU [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Thor (2011), Showing Off, Sibling Incest, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/pseuds/karuvapatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki attempts to lift Mjolnir, with predictable results; Thor can't resist showing off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Worthy

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting a tumblr ficlet for easier navigation :)

"Brother? What are you doing?"

Loki's fingers slid guiltily over Mjolnir's leather-bound handle. The damned hammer lay abandoned in the middle of the meadow while Thor was bathing. It was so like his brother to treat his most prized possession thusly.

"Nothing," Loki said, flexing his fingers. The hammer didn't even _look_ heavy. It _wasn't_. It was simply immovable – a fixture of the very ground it had been dropped onto. To attempt to move it was to try and lift the walls of Asgard itself.

"Testing your worthiness, brother?" Thor asked with a too-wide grin. 

"Testing merely a theory," Loki said. "I am not you, after all. I do need a mallet to define my worth."

Mjolnir was a warrior's weapon. Everything she looked for in a master – strength, valour, honour – Thor had in abundance and Loki lacked. His strengths and in his interests lay in different pursuits. Soon he would find a tool that suited him better.

\--or so Mother had assured him when he came to her. Loki considered himself apt at concealing his emotions. The Queen proved, time and time again, that this was not the case.

Intellectually, he understood that. But, damn. Yet again, Thor would best him in something; yet again, Thor would be the lauded golden son and warrior. Yet again—

Loki's fingers curled around the handle and he gave it a sharp tug, abrupt enough to nearly send him falling to the grass. It wouldn't budge, not even an inch; like all things, it simply preferred Thor.

Thor, who was coming behind him, his big warm hand clasping around Loki's, around Mjolnir's handle. It was a warrior's hand, covered in callouses and tiny scars, with blunt fingernails and dirt beneath them. Loki's paler, thinner palm disappeared easily beneath it.

"See, brother," Thor said, his mouth inches from Loki's ear. "It's that easy."

And he lifted the hammer off the ground.

They were both holding it, but Loki knew only one of them did the actual lifting. He himself felt no weight – his hand was still attached to a fixed spot, and it was the spot itself that moved. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the slight flex in Thor's bare bicep.

Loki narrowed his eyes. Of course. Of course Thor wasted no chance to rub it in. To humiliate Loki. 

Around them, pressure dropped so fast it made Loki's ears pop. When he looked up he could see the perfectly blue sky, clouding over in black and grey with dizzying speed.

"What are you doing?" he said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

"Showing you a trick," Thor said. "You like tricks, do you not?"

The first crackle of electricity came from Mjolnir's head. It woke up, vibrating in Loki's hold. Tiny sparks of light flared around it, nearly blinding.

Loki could swear Thor's eyes were aglow with power, somewhere above his wide joyful smile. He cast his gaze upwards, to the swirl of clouds, concentrating far above them. The wind picked up speed, racing around them in a wide circle, sweeping all in its path.

The air smelled of ozone. Thor lifted the hammer further up, and Loki's hand with it; and the skies cracked open.

The lightning left a blazing trail, burning a mark beneath Loki's eyelids. The sheer amount of _power_ he felt all around him nearly knocked him off his feet. He could not loosen his grip even if he wanted to. Stepping back only pressed him firmly to Thor's wet naked chest, trapping him between two immovable entities that was the hammer and the god who wielded it. 

Then came the thunder. It wasn't sound; it was the crash of sky and earth. Loki could swear it began somewhere in Thor's chest, with a low and deep growl, and then exploded outwards, deafening. Thor _laughed_ , wrapping an arm around Loki's waist to hold him upwards. All around them, lighting and thunder danced a never-ending dance.

All that power, Loki thought dumbly. All of that, at Thor's fingertips, ready to do his bidding—

He was caught in the middle, painfully aware that were it not for Thor, he would crash and burn under the weight of the storm. And he was conscious of other things, also: the texture and flex of Thor's muscle, the line of his jaw. Tiny sparks bloomed over their skin, setting Loki's nerves on fire. And his heartbeat quickened, as did his blood flow.

He was thankful, more than anything, that the coat he wore was long enough to cover his crotch.

"Worry not about the hammer, brother" Thor said, his breath brushing warmly over Loki's ear. His voice should be inaudible over the boom of thunder yet Loki could hear every word, crisp and distinct. "To me, you are worthy."

Loki stared ahead, dumbfounded, until the storm died down around them. Thor wouldn't let him go until it was completely safe, and then lowered Mjolnir gently to the ground.

When Loki managed to unclasp his fingers from the handle they had gone completely white. 

"A riveting display," he said – and then he bolted, muttering excuses about needing a bath after Thor blew so much dust in their faces.

They had set camp near a stream. It was freezing cold but Loki couldn't care less; he was stripping down, enough to expose his aching cock, and the cold was almost pleasant on his overheated skin. He wrapped a hand around his length, stroking wild and fast, trying and failing to name all the emotions boiling inside him. Whatever it was, terror, jealousy, admiration, love – it spilled out in pearly-white drops of come, and was carried away by the stream.


End file.
